activate ego

I want to be around people, these days.  I want to be around people.  I mean, I'm fly.  I'm terrified.  Today I asked a group of people—they weren't just people, man, they were people, man—what they thought of my cream colored thick colored gosh garn cardigan. There was no denying it.  Oh there was no denying it.  Who's going to deny it?  There's only two kinds of faggedabodit, man. 

All conversation shifted like an earthquake.  Watch this:

I just sheft prish.  Oh shit, nothing; it's a mine-field, let's continuing a tough old man said it looks like the sweater Einstein would wear.  I nodded, you know, cool, it was a down nod, no doubt about it, but in my head, I mean, there's faggedabodit, and then there's faggedabodit.  One of them didn't say anything so I pushed him when he tried to get back into the circle I made like I was going to punch him.  He ran away, he tried to be free, the bozo he'll go around in a circle he's not going to get back in—Yea I'm going fishing, I'm fishing for compliments, man, cause I likes to be free

free of emotional pangs.  My self-esteem blew up and life came out of it.  I have nonsensical fears that do me in for strong periods of my day.  When I realize they're bogus, my heart frees up.  Then I can fly far far away and that stupid guy who I made cry with my fist—well, him, he's at the bottom of the river no one ever doesn't compliment me I tells him as I reel him in by the collar close your mouth it makes you look like a fish.  I know what I am, and sometimes I'm a baby afraid of being the things I ain't.  I wrote better in November or December I can't remember but that's okay.  I wore slick jeans to look like one Mr. Cobain.  The old man didn't like it.  I knew the girls would love it.  A beanie sat atop my head.  I have to stand up sometimes to people in my head and be a man.   Fuck you—No don't fuck you, unfuck you.  I'd like you to be my friend.  A tough tender honey in a leather metal jacket eyedated me for a good few seconds and it was funny how giddy it had made me.  So I sat dignified, crossed my legs like a woman, thumbed my nose up at the other ghosts in the room.  They were jealous.  They don't even know how to spell jealous, they write gelus they can't even hold a pen, those chumps they're Lester's friends.

I'm not going to approach her, No I'm not going to approach her—do you know I'm utterly insane?   I will be better all around when I let my head to heal and clear my wounds and be to good.  Sometimes I need to stand up for myself and make it clear my subconscious is a beast and I am more tender than most beasts and fears are more creative than what you can discern.  Thank you for visiting me.  I hope you like what I've done with the place.  I don't know what you think of me.  I know things I've done and won't do, no not wont to do, just won't do!  You'll go back to your life, and I'll stay here.  When I run out of ideas, it frees up time for more pain.  What the fuck did I just say?  It frees me up time for more pain.  What the fuck!  Frees
up  time for more

frees
up
space
for
more...
space?

No! No! No!
activate ego

I hope you like what I--no, not that part.  Look up into the words, the paragraph
- You're pretty.  Get out of the rain I know you're made of sugar.
- Oh, thank you, it's this cardigan.

When I run out of ideas, it frees me up for more ideas to more ideas

Ah fuck it.  That's good enough.  Look at how long this post is, man!  I'll be here waiting for something new to come into my head, so you can come again.